I couldn't have just heard what my brain is telling me I heard
Not from her,
Beautiful, funny, imaginative, barely-seven year old her
Off guard, unprepared, I couldn't process
It's just NOT something I say
I'm conscious to watch my words, my reactions and expressions
Of course there's the occasional whispering, a taunting within
But it's always contained in my head.
The F-word I am referring to here has only three letters, not four
FAT
It was the phrase
"I look fat"
It's not like kids to keep contained the thoughts in their heads
We develop filters as we grow older
There are negatives and positives to filtering our thoughts and words
But that's another topic
Jailed inside my thought life, the jeering word lies in wait
The mirror, the scale, that certain pair of pants, hormones
It's not something I look into the mirror and walk away thinking everyday
But there are days
More days than I care to admit to that the F-word plagues my thoughts
*Who doesn't have the occasional fat-day?
But that word doesn't, ever, escape through my lips
What does escape?
Has she seen discontent in my eyes?
Has she heard my subconscious?
Maybe...
I know what she's not heard...
My verbal acknowledgement that I am beautiful.
An appreciation for my unique design
That bodies are different and I am glad to have mine.
Have I battled my weight?
Yes.
Have I longed to change the pattern of my body?
Yes.
Have I found peace and acceptance, even joy, with the creation that is me?
Yes.
I yearn for her to avoid the lies
That there is a [singular-one] perfect mold
That feeling fat or being called fat means you actually are
That your weight, or size matter just as much as who you are inside
They are lies
Yet, at seven she looked at herself and "felt fat."
And my heart sinks, with the thought -
I failed her.
Failed to protect her
Failed to speak enough truth into her
Failed by rejecting compliments
Failed in my example of loving myself
When staring in the face of failure, I see two choices
Accept it and wallow
Or tackle it and triumph
I choose triumph
I am a failure
But that is not what defines me.
Just as my definition is not found on the scale or in my size.
I choose truth
"I am wonderfully made"
"How beautiful you are my darling"
"The King is enthralled by your beauty"
I accept it
And I pray that it will take root deep inside her, inside of me, inside of you, inside of every girl, woman and man that looks at their reflection and sees anything other than wonderful.
And I pray we will not only accept it but live in it.
I am beautiful.
You are beautiful.
2 comments:
Wow, wow, just...wow. What a wonderful, honest, encouraging post.
So good to know I am not alone in this!!
You ARE beautiful.
It is so easy to see beauty in others, but hard to measure ourselves by that same bar. Why is that? That is a question I am wrestling with, among others.
I think part of your shock comes from the thinking that because we homeschool (I do, too), that our kids are going to have this amazingly glorious perspective. But they are little humans, and contrary to what many think, we don't live in a bubble--so they are still affected by society (and our attitudes and perspectives).
Thank you for being open and real. We need to make sure we tell each other that we are beautiful in our imperfection, and that the beauty is because of whose we are not because of how we look or what we do.
Many blessings!
Selena
I am thankful that you found reassurance and truth here Selena, my goal in writing is to be real, creating a place where others can see my imperfections and not feel alone. But it's not about me it's about sharing the truth of God's love and heart for us, His children.
Be encouraged!
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